


Splatoon 3

by My_Little_Epona



Category: Splatoon
Genre: Gen, Grizzco city, I update when I feel like it basically, Inktopia, My Splatoon 3 concepts, cartoon violence, no set update schedule, tags to be added as i think of them
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-15
Updated: 2021-02-18
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:40:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24743236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/My_Little_Epona/pseuds/My_Little_Epona
Summary: Welcome to Inktopia! The Grizzco-founded city that runs entirely on the energy produced by Salmonoid eggs!Amaiko is an Inkling and proud Grizzco employee who's just moved from Inkopolis to the hub of the newly-famous energy plant. She's excited to be in this place that she helped work to build...But there may be more this city than meets the eye.
Comments: 24
Kudos: 17





	1. Inktopia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amaiko arrives in Inktopia and finds something out-of-place.

Amaiko was dreaming.

At least, she assumed this was a dream. She was fairly sure it couldn’t be reality…

Despite the flowering green of her surroundings, the meadow cracked and groaned, splitting open in random places like water-starved ground. The sky switched constantly between gray and blue, cloudy and clear, though during both weathers green ink rained down. It wasn’t the pleasant, vibrant green it was during Turf Wars… it was a nasty green, like sewage, and it turned her blue topknot the same unpleasant color. Small creatures burrowed their way out of the ground, some emerging from the cracks, others creating new ones. Amaiko couldn’t see them clearly, her eyes didn’t seem to be focusing, but everywhere they touched the grass shriveled up and turned black as coal. Warbling, chittering noises surrounded her in a web of sound, but they came as if from far away, or underwater.

 _What is this?_ somewhere, in Amaiko’s sleep-fogged mind, the bewildered thought bubbled up.

Without warning, a rending, ear-splitting growl echoed over the dreamscape. The ground beneath her feet split open, crumbling away into the dark. A feeling of weightlessness overtook Amaiko’s body, dragging her downwards, deep into shadow and nothingness.

Amaiko woke with a jerk, eyes flying open. Her spine flexed, forcing her upright, hand automatically rising to wipe a trickle of drool off her chin.

Despite the feeling of cotton wool stuffing her head, she glanced around at the others sharing her train compartment, hoping they hadn’t seen her twitch. Thankfully there were just three others, all occupied—an Inkling asleep, another on his phone, and an Octoling buried in a newspaper.

It was the headline of this newspaper that caught Amaiko’s eye—large, bold words spelling out _TENSIONS BETWEEN IDOLS IN POP ICON OFF THE HOOK?_

Internally, the squidgirl rolled her eyes. Celebrities’ secret lives didn’t interest her all that much, and she was even more turned off by the dramatic, over-the-top headline.

The bolded line of text was combined with a picture of the two idols at the recent Clammy awards. They were clutching their golden trophy together, smiling and waving energetically at the camera. As far as Amaiko could see, there wasn’t _any_ tension between them in that picture. And she trusted her eyes.

It was the article located to the left of the main attraction that interested her more— _New Grizzco-founded city only grows._

A smile flickered over Amaiko’s face. This Grizzco-founded city was where the train was headed. Where _she_ was headed.

She glanced down at her Krak-On 528 jean jacket—or more specifically, the pin attached to it. The orange, salmonoid-shaped pin that told the world she was a proud Grizzco employee who had helped to make this city possible.

“ _Inktopia next stop,_ ”a barely-intelligible voice crackled through the train intercom. The sleeping Inkling jerked away, looking startled, but the other two barely moved. Amaiko curled her fingers around the handle of her suitcase, staring out through the window.

Scenery blurred past, all the same scenery as had been flying by all day, ever since Amaiko set foot in the train at seven that morning. Office buildings, neighborhoods, small Turf War settings… all sped away in streaks of vibrancy. The Inkling glanced at her watch, confirming the time to be around noon. She’d been sitting there for approximately five hours.

With a high-pitched screech, the train finally ground to a halt at Inktopia station. The doors slid open, allowing the four occupants to file out onto the platform.

The station was fairly large, but also fairly busy, full of bustling sea folk calling out to each other in loud voices. Glass panels overtook the natural daylight above, tinting everything with an otherworldly sepia.

Eyeing the crowds, Amaiko gripped her suitcase ever tighter, sliding a hand into her pocket to double-check that her phone was still there. Inktopia was still a fairly new city, a police force had yet to be organized. In fact, it didn’t seem as if it was even a priority to the higher-ups in Grizzco. There weren’t many reports of robberies so far, but rumors of minor pickpocketing _had_ reached the Inkling’s ears. It was better to be safe than out a phone.

Amaiko strode quickly over the platform, joining a stream of others as they squeezed onto an escalator. She ended up jammed between a Shellfish arguing with someone on his phone and a gaggle of chattering young squids on a field trip, no doubt to see how Inktopia operated without a Great Zapfish as a power source.

A frazzled-looking young Octoling was attempting to keep the rowdy group in line. Amaiko smiled sympathetically.

After reaching the top, the Squid girl slipped away from the main flow, making her way for the nearest exit. Once she was tempted to stop by a promising-looking cafe and grab a coffee—cod knows she was tired after being on the train all day—but managed to restrain herself and keep marching forwards, straight through the doors.

As Amaiko pushed through the revolving walls of bronze-colored glass, brilliant sunlight hit her face, making her squint for a second.

Inktopia was… so fresh.

It was powered entirely by the clean energy of salmonoid eggs, making the sky almost impossibly blue, free from the usual haze of pollution. A twisting street ran away in front of Amaiko, ending in front of the city’s Turf War hub—although, this tower was notably free from the Giant Zapfish usually curled around it. Various buildings lined the road, a steady stream of sea folk flowing in and out of them.

Judging by the loud and colorful signs, Amaiko could quickly discern what the nearest buildings were—there was a bookstore, an arcade, and a clothing store… the last one looked as if it was specifically for headgear.

Just before the tower, the road fanned out to form a large, plaza-type yard of stone. Several young teens could be seen there, chatting or playing on their phones.

Despite their flashy design, none of the current buildings in view held much interest for Amaiko. She had a direct destination in mind.

The Inkling tugged her phone from her pocket, double-checking the address.

Being a city founded by Grizzco, Inktopia was now naturally a hub for their employees. Because of the flood of laborers desiring to live in the place built with _their_ sweat and tears, the famous energy plant itself had opened free apartment housing for those workers. And _that_ was Amaiko’s destination.

Now confident of her heading, Amaiko stepped onto the sidewalk and strode to the left—away from the main street, towards a much smaller side road.

She started up it, humming cheerily along to the faint strains of a song booming through the plaza in front of the tower.

The melody was familiar—it was an Off the Hook song, an older one, one of their originals before they became world-famous. There was a distinct… feel to it, something that was missing in some of their more recent albums.

Amaiko sighed. She missed the original Off the Hook.

After a few minutes of walking, the squidgirl reached her destination—a tall, pristine white building with the Grizzco logo emblazoned on the doors. After waiting for a break in traffic, Amaiko crossed the street and stepped through the doors, inhaling the scent of _new._

New paint, new carpet, everything smelled fresh and untouched. She felt almost bad for walking on the expensive red carpet.

There were a few people standing in the lobby, but Amaiko only looked to one—the Inkling occupying the front desk.  
It was an older woman, one who looked bored. She picked offhandedly at her scarlet nail polish, leaning back in her chair, but as Amaiko strode up she glanced over curiously.

“Hello, I’m Amaiko,” the younger Inkling said with a slight tremor of nerves in her voice. “These are Grizzco apartments, right?”

“Ya got that right,” the receptionist said, leaning forwards and placing her hands over the computer. “What’s your employee code? We don’t go just by badges anymore, we’ve had problems them being stolen from others.”

“I understand,” Amaiko nodded. “My employee code is 111204.”

“Okay…” the older Inkling’s long-nailed fingers clacked on the keyboard for a few seconds, “Amaiko Erukensu?”

“That’s me,” Amaiko said.

“Great,” the receptionist tossed her a key. “Number 11’s open, enjoy.”

“Thanks!” the squidgirl smiled gratefully.

“No problem, honey.” The receptionist had already returned to picking at her nail polish.

* * *

After dumping her bags in her new, fairly-standard apartment, Amaiko headed back down towards the main area she’d seen before. Now was a good time to make some friends, perhaps do some shopping…

This plaza was much smaller than the one in Inkopolis, but could still hold a fair number of sea folk. Strings of lights crisscrossed the air overhead, and the ground was littered with paper—flyers, stickers, discarded rubbish.

From what Amaiko could see, the anemone street-cleaner had her work cut out for her. Already the blue-fronded woman was sweeping frantically, a frazzled expression on her face.

_H_ _aving clean energy doesn’t matter much if we can’t keep_ _from littering._

Amaiko took a seat at one of the nearby tables, glancing around nervously. The best way to make friends was through Turf Wars, but she hadn’t really been into them back in Inkopolis (too involved with Grizzco) and therefore was still fairly low-leveled. Her only weapons were the beginners’ Splattershot Jr. and an old, beaten-up roller that was a hand-me-down Squidmas present from her cousin.

Everyone would _definitely_ laugh at her for using _any_ of those two weapons, especially since she had the appearance of someone who battled. But what could she do? She wouldn’t be let in any of the shops till level four, at least. Curse those stuffy store-owners.

A sudden sound blared across the plaza—a catchy jingle announcing not only the arrival of changing Turf War stages, but also the news announcing what was next. The massive, flashing screen affixed to the tower lit up with the intro.

Amaiko’s phone buzzed simultaneously, and she pulled it out of her pocket to see a notification for the upcoming news broadcast.

_Huh, so my phone’s connected to the tower already._

She tapped on it, and the screen lit up with a picture of two sea folk standing in a studio. All around Amaiko, others were doing the same—some glanced up to the big screen, some glanced down at their phones, some even ignored it at first. But when the two news hosts began talking, all attention was grabbed.

“Hey there, Inktopia!” a cheery Inkling with vibrant pink tentacles tied up in two topknots waved at the camera, “Welcome to Inktopia news! We’re your hosts, Seasonal Spring!”

“But enough with introductions, let’s get on to what you’re all here for,” the other, and Octoling with blue and green tentacles, recited. “What are the current battle stages, Summer?”

“Let’s find out, Winter!” behind the two, a screen lit up with two still images, one before the other—one of Starfish Mainstage, the other of Snapper Canal.“Snapper Canal is my favorite stage,” Summer said conversationally, “But only because I _actually_ splatted someone with a Charger for ONCE in my life there.”

“I applaud your magnificent achievement,” Winter chuckled. “What are the Ranked Battle stages?”

Once again, the screen flashed through two images—the category was Tower Control, the stages The Reef and Manta Maria.

“Doesn’t the Manta Maria technically belong to the Off the Hook idol, Pearl Houzki?”

“I don’t know, Winter. And now, a word from our sponsor and basically government—”

“ _Stick to the teleprompter, Summer!_ ”

“Geez, fine. And now a word from our sponsor, Grizzco—‘working to provide clean energy for all of the world’!”

“Thanks for watching, Inktopia, now it looks like our time is u—”

“ _Actually_ , Winter, now it’s time for some _flash news_!”

“W-what? Summer, what are you—?”

“Chill. Haha! Get it? Cause like--never mind. Anyway, I got this. FLASH news—rumors of tension between Off the Hook idols may be more than just rumors!”

A ripple of interested murmurs ran across the crowd. Amaiko rolled her eyes.

_Not this again._

“Summer, we’ve talked about this—” the poor Octoling, Winter, looked exhausted.

“I said chill, Winter! Off the Hook’s most recent concert was canceled on mysterious terms… and the only one who announced it was Marina Ida.” Summer’s eyes were shining excitedly. “Do you think Pearl Houzki refused to perform? Why did only Marina show up? And why did she not give a reason for the cancellation?”

“For cod’s sake, Summer.”

“Well, that’s all the time we have now, sea kids! Stay tuned for the next FLASH NEWS!”

“No, don’t. We’re never doing this again.” Winter’s tone was flat as the camera flickered to black.

Amaiko rolled her eyes again at the excited chatter filling the air. Everything was “ _Off the Hook”,_ or “ _Marina Ida”,_ or “ _Pearl Houzki”._

_These people need to find something else to do with their lives._

Bored, the squidgirl’s eyes roved over the crowd of people. It passed over the interesting storefronts, the food vendors, the visible recording studio… till it settled on one shadowed corner of the plaza.

Amaiko frowned. There was a cephalopod standing there, whether it was an Ink or Octo she couldn’t tell. Their face was covered, shoulders swathed in a large cloak that _should’ve_ looked out of place in the bright and colorful plaza, but… didn’t. It blended in, like camouflage.

The cephalopod glanced up, looking directly at Amaiko.

She jerked backward, shocked by the intensity of the flashing, pale green stare. Her chair would’ve tipped over if she hadn’t caught the edge of the table, unable to tear her gaze away from the other’s.

As she watched, the cephalopod shrunk and transformed into a squid, vanishing with a splash of green ink.

Amaiko sat there, frozen for a few seconds, unable to do anything but clutch her pounding heart. Her eyes were fixed on the corner, waiting for the strange Inkling—as now she’d seen it was an Inkling—to appear again.

The space remained empty.

Amaiko pushed her chair back further than was necessary, standing up slowly. The sunlight had suddenly turned icy, cold sweat was trickling down her back.

She crossed the plaza numbly, waving between crowds of cheerful sea folk, all totally oblivious to the sudden chill. Her footsteps finally paused in the corner, gaze traveling downwards.

A sewer grate was set in the concrete—the kind that stole keys and made young children afraid of falling in. As Amaiko stared at it, a small plopping noise reached her ears, like water dripping into a puddle of slime. She swallowed dryly, fighting the compulsion to see where the sound came from.

After a second of deliberation, she stepped onto it, hearing the clattering sound of her shoes on metal as if from a distance. It was almost like she was back in her dream, but this time it felt like a nightmare.

Amaiko stared into the darkness, praying she wouldn’t die, and transformed into her squid form.

With the sudden transfer of weight, the grate flipped, dumping her unceremoniously on the opposite side. A strangled cry escaped her lips as she plunged down, falling into the darkness beyond.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy crap this was fun. I can't wait to continue this story... I'm so excited!  
> Fyi, the pronunciation of Amaiko's name is Ah-my-i-ko. Just in case anyone was wondering.


	2. Things Go Wrong

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After an odd encounter, Amaiko attempts to get in a work shift at Grizzco, but something... odd happens.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, it seems like it's been forever since I worked on this fanfic, and gosh did I miss it. Splatoon is so fun for me to write because there's so much left to explore with the world. I hope you enjoy this new chapter! ^^

Something down here smelled _awful._

Amaiko landed with a thud on a rusting, dilapidated catwalk. It ended shortly behind her, concluding in a twisted, deformed railing that looked like it wouldn’t hold anything back at _all._ Darkness loomed below, but if the squidgirl squinted, she could vaguely make out some kind of liquid moving sluggishly somewhere down there.

Amaiko fought back the urge to gag, wishing she could just lie down and pass out.

Choking fog filled the entire… room? cavern? she was in, dimly lit by some sort of mysterious light source overhead. She glanced up, searching for this source, but instead, her eyes met a dark, gaping hole set in the ceiling.

She shuddered. _T_ _hat_ was her entrance.

Thank cod Inklings had no bones, or else she would’ve shattered into a million pieces when she landed.

Another light flashed through the fog, causing Amaiko to jump back and shield her face. This time, the form of illumination was an LED flashlight, pointed directly at the squidgirl’s features. Pain laced through her head at the sudden brilliance.

“Good,” a dull, emotionless voice said. “You followed me.”

“W-what?” Amaiko squinted through the glare, but all she could make out was a dim, shadowy outline of some kind. “Who are you?”

“Glad you asked.” The Inkling seemed anything but glad. “I’m Agent 3 of the Squidbeak Splatoon.”

Amaiko opened and closed her mouth, processing that information.

“Why were you watching me?” she asked. “What do you want?”

“It’s simple, really. I need your help.”

“ _Help?_ My help with _what?_ ” the squidgirl demanded.

“Follow me, please.” Without giving Amaiko time to say anything else, Agent 3 turned and vanished into the fog.

Amaiko huffed, glancing upwards again. She could probably superjump out… _if_ her phone had wifi down here. And if she could find a spare superjump signal. She wasn’t sure if she’d connected to the main respawn point located on the tower—she’d connected to the broadcast, but maybe not the respawn. Nowadays most modern cities connected both, automatically, but older places like Calamari County connected separately. Inktopia was different from most modern cities in many ways.

She was halfway through pulling out her phone to check when Agent 3 came back, this time with flashlight pointed towards the ground.

“Coming?” she asked.

Now that Amaiko’s eyes had at least partially adjusted to the gloom, she could see more than just a vague outline. Not _very_ much, but enough to determine that the Inkling’s h air style was the most outdated thing she’d ever seen. Who even _wore_ their hair like that anymore? Two long tentacles hung down over both shoulders, swaying slightly with her movement.

“ _Coming?_ ” This time, the word had some bite to it. No longer so emotionless.

“Fine,” Amaiko sighed, reluctantly putting her phone back. If this Inkling wanted to hurt her, she could’ve done so by now.

Agent 3 nodded, turning and striding away.

Amaiko followed nervously. The sound of clattering footsteps falling on metal was loud and echoing, but at the same time stifled, as if the fog was choking the sound as well.

If Amaiko screamed, would anyone hear her?

“Here.” Agent 3 stopped abruptly, flashlight illuminating a single door that ended the catwalk. A cracked cement wall stretched out away from it, spotted with mold and slime.

“Seriously, where are we?” Amaiko asked, wrinkling her nose.

“Beneath Inktopia,” Agent 3 deigned to respond, producing a key from somewhere and sticking it into the door’s lock. “In the sewers.”

“Huh.” Amaiko frowned curiously, glancing around again. “I didn’t know they were so… big.”

“That’s because they’re not just sewers,” was the other’s cryptic response. The door swung open, letting beams of light filter into the smoggy chamber. Agent 3 gestured for Amaiko to enter.

The inside room was tiny, resembling a maintenance room—no, a maintenance _closet._ It was lit with fluorescent bars of light set into the ceiling, illuminating the black-spotted white walls and cracked cement floor. A plastic carton of… clothes? Weapons? sat in a corner, and a charger leaned against the wall next to it.

“Now, I suppose you’d prefer some answers?” Agent 3 asked, closing the door behind them. Amaiko glanced over at her, now able to see the Inkling plainly.

Aside from her outdated hairstyle, Agent 3 looked… odd. She was wearing a jacket made of reflective, yellow-green material, and pointed black headphones covered her ears. She was still wearing her cloak, which was much more ragged than Amaiko had initially thought when she’d seen her in the square earlier. Her eyes were an odd, pale green, and the right side of her face was marked with some kind of discoloration or scar.

“Yeah, I would,” Amaiko crossed her arms. “ _What_ is happening?”

“Very well. You may want to sit down.”

Seeing nowhere else, Amaiko awkwardly took a seat on the carton of weapons. The other Inkling loomed over her now, which Amaiko thought felt vaguely unfair.

“As I mentioned earlier, I am Agent 3 of the Squidbeak Splatoon. We’re an undercover group that fights against the Octarians.”

“Octarians?” Amaiko echoed. “Wait… are you talking about _Octolings?_ ” She raised an eyebrow. “Doesn’t that sound racist to you? Are you one of those psycho anti-Octolings?”

“No, far from it,” Agent 3 sighed, looking mildly miffed from the interruption. “Yes, the Octolings are part of the Octarian race, but they’re different. They’re not like those under DJ Octavia’s command.”

“DJ Octavia?” Amaiko said, her head spinning. “Who? What? Where?”

“I realize this must be very confusing,” Agent 3’s tone was as bland as always. “But if you listen, everything will be explained. I’m sure you’ve heard of the disappearance of the two Great Zapfish both in Inkopolis Plaza and Inkopolis Square?”

“Yeah,” Amaiko nodded, feeling another surge of pride—but not at her knowledge. “It’s one of the inspirations behind Inktopia. Now no one has to panic about power outages just because a fish goes missing.”

“Right. Well. DJ Octavio—the leader of the Octarians—was behind both of those. The Octarians are constantly trying to invade, but they don’t have enough power to launch a full-stage attack. And every time they steal a Zapfish, there’s an agent to take them down. I was there for the first disappearance in Inkopolis Plaza.”

Well… that explained the hair.

“Every time the Octarians rise, a member of the Squidbeak Splatoon sets out to recruit a new agent. And that’s why I’m here.”

There was a second of silence.

“… me?” Amaiko’s eyebrows traveled upward. “Are you _joking?_ Why of all squids me?”

“You looked different out there,” Agent 3 said flatly. “Everyone else is young and irresponsible. You’re older and to my eyes, you look capable enough.”

“Nah,” Amaiko snorted, standing up and brushing nonexistent dust off her pants. “I don’t even _battle._ Besides, why do you need another agent? There’s no Zapfish for the Octarians to steal here.”

“Yes,” Agent 3 said, unmoving even with Amaiko now in her space, “But this city is built over the Octarian hotspot. They have underground bases everywhere, but there are possibly millions of Octarians beneath our feet.”

Amaiko bit back a shudder, resisting the urge to glance at the floor. Her mind conjured up the image of a swarm of disgusting creatures like the ones in her dream… blurry as if their very existence needed to be censored.

“Look… I have a lot in my life,” she insisted. “I’m working a job, trying to pay for my last year in college. Not to mention trying to brush up in battle skills. I just made the decision to move out of my parents’ house, so now I have to figure out this adulting thing as well. I’m not the squid you’re looking for.”

Agent 3 was silent for several moments, long enough to make Amaiko feel awkward, especially since she was practically right in her face.

“Very well,” the squid eventually said. “Please think it over at least. You could be part of something larger than yourself.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Amaiko sighed, waving a hand. “I’ll ‘think’ about it. How do I get out of here?”

“Outside. Superjump,” was all Agent 3 said, remaining still as she stared down at the squidgirl. Amaiko was suddenly aware of how much difference a few inches of height made.

“Okay,” she sighed, stepping around the Inkling in front of her. “Well… see you around, I guess.” She opened the door, almost gagging as the noxious fumes outside hit her full in the face. She walked over the catwalk, pinching her nose shut, and checked her phone.

to her relief, once she opened the city map there was a glowing dot right over the tower. Amaiko tapped it quickly, acutely aware of the pale-green stare on the back of her head. Everything disappeared in a rush of air as the world blurred past, pulling her upward and into the light.

* * *

In spite of Amaiko’s insincere comment to Agent 3, she _did_ think about it.

All day.

After her trip to the sewers she was too shaken to do much, so opted to get settled in in her apartment.

It was small—naturally, since housing was free, and therefore space had to be taken advantage of to house all the employees—but clean, with functional water and AC. In Amaiko’s opinion, it was perfect.

She unpacked her two bags, which carried all of her property—a few changes of clothes, her two weapons, and a few electronics. She preferred to travel light rather than hoard several belongings, not to mention she was trying to take up as little space as she could in her parent’s house, so she already owned very few things.

Amaiko paused briefly in her unpacking, brushing a finger over a taped-up corner of her clunky, dinged-up laptop. It had been affectionately dubbed “human” by her family since it was practically an ancient relic. But it’d been the best she could afford at the time, living in the lower areas of Inkopolis. Thank cod she’d had her phone for online classes, at least, that had been a gift from one of her more well-off friends and therefore was actually decently fast.

 _Ding._ Speak of the devil. Amaiko glanced at the notification on her phone—it was just the news hour. Turf war stages were switching up. She zoned out for most of the update, only tuning in to hear one thing,

“And now a word from our sponsor—Grizzco Industries _never_ stops hiring!”

“That’s right, Summer! You too can be a Grizzco worker and proud provider of energy for now _half_ the world! Shifts are open from now till 5 AM.”

Ah, right. Amaiko had forgotten that shifts only opened at noon, lasting till the sun began to rise.

“And that’s all the time we have for today! Till next time…”

Amaiko turned off her phone.

 _I should get my hours in now,_ Amaiko thought. _And then maybe try some Turf War later. That’s a good idea._ She stood up, brushing off her shorts.

Time to supply the world with energy.

* * *

Amaiko had seen Grizzco’s original headquarters—a dingy shack with tiny, vile-smelling locker rooms and barely-functional showers—and could hardly believe that the company started out in such a way. Now, the building was several stories tall, glimmering and immaculate white, decked out with the highest technology there was to offer. After checking in with her Grizzco pin, Amaiko joined a stream of seafolk as they crowded onto an elevator, selecting the highest floor. The only place higher was the roof, which contained the team launchpads where Inklings would superjump in groups of eight to the boats waiting for them by the ocean, however many miles away.

Amaiko stared awkwardly at the ground, trying to discreetly inch away from the elbows jabbing into her. There were really too many seafolk on this elevator.

It finally slid to a stop, opening the doors to let its cargo spill into the hallway beyond. Here was located another check-in of sorts, like the main one downstairs, except all they did was hand you a key to your locker and let you go. Amaiko pushed her way to the front of the crowd, passing through quickly, and checked the number on her key. She was with team three today, it seemed. Locker four.

Upon seeing the number tag on her key, her mind automatically drifted to the place below… the sewers, where an Inkling stood and waited for a response that would never come.

Amaiko shoved all thoughts of Agent 3 and her stories of the so-called Octarians from her mind. She had a job to do.

Open entrances lined the hallway, each leading to two doors—separate locker rooms for the men and women. Amaiko found entrance three, near the end of the hallway and the huge window that overlooked Inktopia.

There were only twenty-one rooms operating at a time, taking up a mere three floors of the building, each with eight seafolk to their name. Not all eight were in one team of egg harvesters, they just prepared in the same room and shared a ride. Only so many seafolk could fit on a boat, after all.

Amaiko quickly located her locker, opening it. The typical Grizzco gear was located inside, along with her weapon for the day—an Aerospray PG of much higher quality than any weapon she’d ever owned before. Cod, she wished she could bring this weapon home with her and use it to battle.

Amaiko hurried to change. After a bit, another joined her with a curt nod—an Octoling who acknowledged her presence once then ignored her for the rest of the time. Amaiko didn’t mind, wondering if the other six were all boys.

But just as she was finished adjusting her gear, the door slammed open, a young, frazzled-looking Inkling rushing in.

“I’m so sorry!” she squeaked, stumbling to her locker and fumbling with the key. “I didn’t mean to be late!”

Amaiko blinked in surprise, looking over her shoulder to see who the girl was speaking to. The Octoling hadn’t even glanced up.

It couldn’t be _her…_ why would it be? Besides, according to the clock on the wall, they weren’t scheduled to leave for another ten minutes. She had some time. It was almost impossible to be late for a Grizzco shift, they were constantly happening.

Throughout those remaining ten minutes, Amaiko watched the young squidgirl struggle to open the locker, struggle to put the uniform on, struggle to handle the weapon (an Inkbrush, poor thing) in her bulky gloves, and struggle to close the locker again. She felt a surge of pity for the girl, but simultaneously hoped they wouldn’t be on the same team. This Inkling was obviously new to the job.

An alarm blared through the room, making the three jump. It signaled the time to depart for the roof.

The Octoling swept quickly from the room. Amaiko held the door open for the other Inkling, whose uniform seemed to be too large for her. They were _supposed_ to be one-size-fits-all, but somehow this girl defied it.

The stairs leading to the roof were crowded. Rubber boots squeaked on stone as seafolk shoved their way upwards.

 _Team three,_ Amaiko repeated in her head. _I’m with team three._

The going became a little easier once they all broke into the sunlight, streaming into their marked-off superjump sections.

 _Team three,_ Amaiko thought again. That, she knew, was on the left side of the roof. She pushed her into that direction, trailed by the other girl, who kept stumbling over her too-large boots.

The section was marked on the ground with neat, straight white lines. Amaiko took up her position and the other squidgirl joined her, dragging the Inkbrush behind her.

“Five seconds till superjump!” an automated alarmed blared over the roof, starting the countdown. Those not in position yet hurried to do so.

“Four!”

“Three!”

“Two!”

“One!”

For the second time that day, Amaiko felt the squeezing, rushing pressure of a jump. The world flashed past in blurs of color—some the eyesore-orange of her teammates’ uniforms, others just the streaks of alternating clouds and sky. Amaiko’s eyes watered from the wind as they reached the peak of the jump, beginning their ascent downwards again.

_Thud._

A small shiver ran through the squidgirl’s body as they hit the ground solidly. The group now stood on a stone dock, stretching out into the ocean before them. To their right, a boat bobbed in the waves. In the distance, one could see the spires of Inkopolis.

There was a low groan from the ground near Amaiko’s feet, and she glanced down to see the other girl sprawled on the ground, Inkbrush lying on top of her.

Amaiko finally took pity on the poor girl and offered her a hand. The Inkling gazed up at her with a face reminiscent of Lil’ Judd’s, one of the Turf War judges of Inkopolis Square, when someone gave him food.

She took Amaiko’s hand with clammy fingers, getting shakily to her feet.

“T-thank you,” she breathed, starry-eyed.

“Heh,” Amaiko chuckled, only a _little_ uncomfortable. “No problem.”  
“What’s your name?”

The question was so abrupt it caught the squidgirl off guard for a second. She blinked at the other Inkling, startled.

“Amaiko,” she eventually said, smiling as warmly as she could, “And you?”

“I’m Mushi!” the girl exclaimed brightly, making a weird hand gesture that was something between a salute and a wave. After hanging awkwardly in the air for a bit, her arm dropped to her side, and Amaiko felt another surge of pity for the poor thing.

“Oi!” a voice yelled from the boat next to them. “We gotta go! Get on, losers!”

Mushi jumped and yelled a jumbled, stuttering apology, but Amaiko glared at the Inkling who’d called. He was a normal teammate, like her, but acted with an air of snippy authority that pissed her off.

 _Cod, I hope he’s not on my team,_ Amaiko prayed

“Piss off!” she said out loud, flipping him off.

“Vulgar behavior is not tolerated between teammates,” a bored-looking Octoling, the boat’s attendant, glanced over the two—one Inkling spluttering indignantly, the other smirking. “Do I need to report this?”

“Sorry, sir,” Amaiko apologized, taking hold of the top of Mushi’s Inkbrush—which the young squidgirl clutched tightly—and pulling her along as she strode up the gangplank. The Octoling made a “hmm” noise and marked something on a clipboard he held. As he turned away, the Inkling on the deck stuck out his tongue at Amaiko.

She sighed.

* * *

The first two waves passed without a hitch.

Fortunately, when Amaiko had stepped off the at the boat’s first stop, the snippy Inkling hadn’t followed. But _unfortunately_ , Mushi had.

The kid wasn’t bad. She knew how to use her weapon, and was surprisingly good at reviving those who were splatted and tackling the small fry while her teammates handled the big fish.

But she was just so. Clam. _Clumsy._

Amaiko had lost track of the number of times she’d swooped in to save the girl from being splatted after tripping over her own feet or getting trapped in a corner. And Mushi had accidentally tried to swim over grates or simply _fell off the map_ so _many times,_ it was mind-boggling that the other crew members still revived her instead of just leaving her to splash helplessly in a life tube, where she couldn’t stumble on uneven ground or panic and forget how to swim up walls.

Wave three started.

The four team members—two Octolings, two Inklings—forced-superjumped back to the center of the island. It was high tide, and polluted green water lapped high on the island’s walkways and stone walls.

Mushi stumbled as they landed and would have been pulled over by her Inkbrush had not one of the female Octoling—who’d ended up on the team—grabbed the back of her overalls and hauled her into position. The Octokids exchanged eye-rolls while Mushi stuttered an apology, struggling with her unwieldy weapon.

“Hey! Mushi!” Amaiko called. The younger squidgirl jerked upright. “Keep your head in the game.”

Mushi nodded furiously, readying herself as swarms of Salmonoids began to pour out of the ocean.

A Steel Eel appeared, to Amaiko’s dismay—the snake-like creatures were her least favorite of the bosses. But as her teammates called to each other and ran to defeat it, her steps slowed.

Something was wrong.

She couldn’t tell what it was at first.

The sea breeze was too cold. Sweat was trickling down her back. Her nerves were prickling.

And the ink was… blue?

Since when had Salmonoid ink been blue?

A heavy, splashy plop sounded from her right, making her whirl around.

That… wasn’t a Salmonoid.

This thing resembled a large, singular tentacle—like something off an Octoling’s head, but _living,_ with a grotesque face. It was mutated, mottled, and lumpy, a sickly blue color with swollen green lips. Its eyes were pale and dead, fixed on Amaiko, and it started oozing forward like some kind of ghastly sea snail.

Amaiko snapped out of it when Mushi screamed. A few blasts from the Aerospray and the thing burst, splattering blue ink. The Inkling whirled around to see the source of the scream.

Mushi was cowering next to a wall, her Inkbrush lying broken several feet away. Several of the tentacles slid slowly towards her, dripping green ooze and their own ink.

Amaiko cursed under her breath and dashed forward, tossing a burst bomb. Mushi flinched as orange ink sprayed her face.

The blast seemingly startled the creatures, however, who scattered like leaves. It was… almost terrifying how fast they could move.

Amaiko hopped over the wall, landing with a grunt on the ink-stained ground. Without a second thought, she grabbed Mushi, slinging the girl up and over the wall again. She swam up next to her, then grabbed her by the back of her overalls and tossed her roughly next to the egg basket.

“Stay,” she ordered. Mushi nodded dumbly.

The two Octolings returned with golden eggs, somehow meeting the quota for this wave. They’d been busy while Amaiko was paralyzed.

“What is _happening_ _?_ ” one of the Octolings asked, wiping a smudge of blue ink from his face.

“Something’s wrong,” Amaiko said, splatting a few small fry trying to swarm the team. All boss Salmonoids had vanished completely—almost as if they’d been replaced with the tentacle creatures. They’d met the quota just in time.

“Uh, no squit, genius!” the other Octoling sniped, glaring at Amaiko. The squidgirl frowned at her while the octoboy looked apologetic.

 _They must know each other,_ Amaiko thought.

“There’s only twenty seconds of time left,” the boy said, attempting to pacify the two participating in a glaring contest. “If we can just survive that long—”

Mushi screamed. The octogirl splatted a tentacle that had been creeping up on them.

“Twelve seconds on the clock,” Amaiko counted. More tentacles oozed from the water. Amaiko readied her Aerospray.

_Five._

_Four._

_Three._

_Two._

_One._

The world streaked to a blur. The tentacles surged forward too late—the team of Seafolk had already leapt off the island, heading for the boat visible in the distance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact--originally, this line, “Keep your head in the game” was misspelled as "Keep your head in the gae" and I sat down and laughed for about ten minutes like an idiot.  
> Shout out to Mariana Deep (https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarianaDeep/pseuds/MarianaDeep) and their awesome story for reinspiring me to work on this fanfic! :D


	3. not an actual update (i'm sorry ;-;)

OK IM JUST HERE TO SCREAM ABOUT SPLATOON 3 CAUSE TRGIERHFIDJOJOTRHJORHBDJCDSOFDSKO I'M SO EXCITED THE LITTLE SALMONOID THE FRICKING BOW AND ARROW THE GENDER-NEUTRAL OPTIONS IT'S ALL TOO MUCH FOR MY FRAGILE FANGIRL HEART


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